plusROMANCE
by K0USAGI
Summary: Recently revised. A lonesome writer, a mad-genius mangaka, and a rising rock starlet from Aomori with a violent stalker all collide in Tokyo. When an ill-planned confession becomes something more, Iwase Aiko finds that a romance with Niizuma Eiji is like nothing anyone could have expected. When a childhood friend tumbles back into Eiji's life, four strange lives collide.
1. Moments and Heartbeats

_**04. 15. 2013 : **__After looking back at this first chapter and considering where I want this story to go, I figured it'd be best to rewrite the first chapter! The more I think about it, the more I see this story branching out in more directions than I'd first expected. The first chapter, formerly titled "Doki-Doki Moment" had originally been a comedy oneshot and had been my first time writing for Bakuman... I feel like a revision is in order, seeing as I feel a little more comfortable with the characterizations. For those of you who have already read the first chapter, not much is changed, just some phrasing and whatnot was made a bit smoother. Although near the end, there's some added little foreshadowing of the story's future... Thank you everyone for your support thus far, and I hope you guys continue to enjoy this story!  
— Kousagi_

* * *

_**~{ Ch. 01: Moments and Heartbeats }~**_

Niizuma Eiji's apartment was a clutter of sketches, manga pages, and reference books piled ceiling high on his assistants' desks. It was a rightful mess in Iwase's eyes—the kind of hurricane that would never strike her work space. As she paced around the studio, hearing only the scritching of Eiji's pen, she took interest in each little nothing she found lying about. Sketches tacked to the walls showed many-sided reference images of her characters—pieces of +Natural's script were tacked nearby, with lines highlighted, circled, or underlined. These specific lines didn't go under her radar. They were the moments she'd written to express the personalities of her protagonists and antagonists and they were moments that Eiji caught easily and kept for reference.

Only editors ever noticed the most meaningless little notes about her players. Often, they were scratched out and she was told, "This is useless padding; lower your word count." He was always noticing the little things.

Why did it still surprise her? Iwase reasoned with herself; people generally marveled at her talents. So of course he would see these little bits of genius and add them to his toolbox. Yet...

"Matsuri's eyes flit to the side," Iwase read aloud a line underlined with green pen. There was only silence from Eiji and the motions of his pen and arm moving at their frantic pace. Annoyed, Iwase read another line he'd marked, "With downcast eyes, Matsuri smiled."

Beside these excerpts was a reference page of Matsuri's design. Her shy demeanor was evident in her body language, one note mentioned. Fingers softly pressed into the fabric of her sleeve, ankles close, eyes averted from any onlookers.

"Matsuri is shy, shy, shy!" Eiji finally exclaimed, adjusting how he sat in his chair, from cross-legged to on his knees. He looked over to Iwase, head leant to the side in his odd manner, "Matsuri never makes eye-contact if she can avoid it._ Doki-doki-doki,_ Matsuri's a girl whose heart pounds at even the slightest embarrassment, like a tsuntsun. I like that you never say it or have other characters mention it outwardly. The reader picks up on it from her mannerisms."

"You convey her personality well." Iwase said.

Eiji grinned, "Yes. Yes, I do."

Iwase couldn't stifle her own smile. Eiji was boyish and charming in the strangest way. Very much like a seven-year-old without any shred of tact or concern. Disheveled, tumbling off into their own make-believe. Iwase was her own personal anchor to the world. To no one would she ever admit her envy of the flighty mangaka.

No one. No one, right?

She blinked, realizing he was still looking at her. Drumming his fingertips, juggling the pen between his skilled digits. With his head cocked like that he looked like a confused dog. Iwase wanted to bark, _"Get back to work, already! Stop staring!"_ But for a moment she let her control slip. He earned that much, at the very least. For his dedication and effort.

"Ah... you don't have to feel pressured to draw all the time like that when I'm here, Niizuma."

"When I stop, it's like holding my breath."

"Well, draw then!" Iwase said, irately, "What are you looking at me for?"

"You come here every night and watch me draw-draw-draw." Eiji answered softly, "Every night I say it's alright. Friends do it. Friends try to talk to me, but they're rather boring. You never talk. It's weird when you talk."

"Do you want me to stop talking, then?"

Eiji shook his head, "No. I like when you talk."

Well, that was hardly as complicated as she'd expected. Iwase felt an odd sensation akin to shyness. It was entirely unlike the way Takagi made her feel. Something closer to being unnerved when caught in Eiji's sight. There was still that telltale flutter, just like the day she saw Takagi's name beside her own in their class rankings. Just like the day she shook Takagi's hand and caught the gold glint of his eyes and that perfect crescent of his smile. Those first bothersome pin-pricks of a crush.

This was ridiculous. Eiji was a savant, perhaps, or at the very least a fool with his head full more of manga than how to cut his own chopped up hair. Eiji was a walking whirlwind and lived in the kind of chaos that would drive her utterly mad. Iwase felt that tickle in her chest grow thorns and spread into anger.

She tore her attentions away and fixed her interests on the bookshelf and it's contents. So many manga. But there were novels as well. So there were a few things Eiji appreciated beyond comics and illustrations. Taking in each subject, she wondered if perhaps Eiji was far smarter than he let on. Maybe he wasn't a high school drop out after all... maybe he was some kind of privately tutored master. Maybe he just finished school early with marks far greater than her own or even Takagi's? A hot flush rose in her cheeks. _Stupid...!_ But after all the nights she had stayed in the silence of his apartment—especially after his assistants left for the evening—one would expect any sort of tension to have dissolved. Not grown.

Nonsensical, pathetic, emotions all born on a whim. Focus on work. This was simply for work, to advise her illustrator on her work. Things had gone sour enough when Hattori was her editor. She didn't need to have Eiji turn her down, too.

"Niizuma, did you ever—" Iwase began, turning back to him and then jumping with a half-shriek, half-gasp. Eiji had seemingly appeared right beside her, although he winced and took a step back at her shock.

"W-when did you get there?!"

"I was getting something. You jumped like, _bikuuun!_" Eiji's finger moved across the row of books before settling on a photo collection of rural towns and architecture. He stopped, side-eying her, "_Chira..._"

A moment of silence followed until Iwase asked, "Should I leave? It seems as though I'm getting in the way."

Eiji shook his head.

Iwase felt her heart thumping. He was taller and lankier than she'd really noticed. She always kept some distance between herself and Jump's genius mangaka—he was "weird" to her. He was best when he wasn't talking to her or just hobbling around in his chair or jumping on his assistant's backs and shouting the power-up phrases from his manga. Stupid, stupid child with a handsome face that any other sane woman would call garish or ugly. Stupid, stupid boy with his stupid hair that didn't make any damned sense, that everyone should have seen and known well enough to keep scissors away from him over. Idiot with big, clear eyes that wouldn't stop watching her.

"Are we having a _doki-doki_ moment?" Eiji asked.

"NO!" Iwase yelled, shoving him away on instinct.

Eiji made an odd wail of, "T_suuuuuun~!_" and dropped into a sofa with his book in tow. He looked up at her with wide, dark eyes in confusion.

"A... I am not a-a... a _tsun_!" She cried.

"You're not a _yandere, _then are you...?" Eiji asked.

Iwase crinkled her nose in disgust and threw the first book within reach at him, "If this is some stupid, otaku way of flirting, give it up. I'm in love with Takagi-kun."

Eiji whimpered and deflected the book with his own and added hastily, "But Takagi-sensei isn't in love with you!"

Iwase screamed and threw another book at him, "Why did I even come here?!"

"Because you like me?" Eiji chirped.

"I... It's not like that!" Iwase fumed.

"You're quiet when you're here and you get really close when I draw and I hear you breathe, and... it's pleasant. I like it."

"Is this some kind of confession!?"

"...I don't know." Eiji looked over it at Iwase, knees pulled up to his chest. Iwase wanted to just pelt him with more books. This wasn't right... this couldn't be the only man she ever felt _that_ for who returned the feeling... why him? Why Niizuma Eiji!?

Lowering her tension, Iwase exhaled and said, "Nothing gets by you, does it? You notice everything. Isn't that what you do? It's why you're such a great artist. Why you can take just a sentence and make a world out of it, isn't it? ...and now, you notice this from me. Before I even realize it, at that. I'd be lying if I said you were wrong. But... don't think that there's room in my mind for anyone but Takagi!"

Eiji said nothing, still looking more terrified of her than before. Perhaps she'd ruined it. Perhaps the genius was more fragile than she expected—fool, of course he was more fragile, and her temper had just shot down her chance at defeating Takagi in one fell swoop. And yet there was the ever-present, "worse" possibility that she'd hurt Eiji in that outburst. Their professional relationship was a memory after this moment, wasn't it? Because she was a fool. This is why she never wanted her heart to get the better of her, Iwase internally scolded herself.

"I'm sorry. Niizuma."

"Eiji. You can call me Eiji."

Iwase felt her lower lip quiver. He was too kind and forgiving for her.

"Eiji." She repeated. It was odd, the way it felt on her lips. She'd said his name plenty before, but not to him, not like this. He lit up just a bit when he heard it, the way a puppy does when it hears it's own name rolling off it's master's tongue. Iwase smiled and said, "Aiko."

"Just Aiko now? How _tsunnn_—"

"_Tsun_, then, huh? Would you prefer Aiko-sama?!"

For the briefest moment, a conniving sort of grin crossed Eiji's face. His gaze lowered. Something a bit darker, "Ha, like ...a master and slave?"

Iwase rolled her eyes. What was it lovers did? Surely a shake of the hand wasn't what got Miyoshi into Takagi's heart. Men wanted more than that. And for just a moment, Iwase felt desired when Eiji eyed her like that. One moment he was as innocent as a child and the next he looked like he was imagining her in dominatrix gear. Idiot...

"When I first came here, you said it was dangerous for a man and a woman to be alone like this."

"Of course."

"Did you mean for you and I? That it was dangerous? Did you feel that way then, as well?"

Eiji glanced sideward for a moment before nodding slowly, "It was dangerous for us to be like this when we should remain collaborators. When everyone left except you... and you stood there behind me, saying nothing... I felt watched. Everyone watched me when I drew, all my life. But when you watched me it was different. It was dangerous. I might mess up. Because I want to look at what I draw, but... but I want to look at you, too."

Iwase winced... the poor boy was a lost cause. Just like all the other men that threw themselves at her feet. If she walked out now, and never returned, their project was sure to end in disaster. This incident wouldn't go forgotten no matter how much she wished it.

"All things considered, Eiji... maybe I'm fond of you. Maybe you're right. But... maybe I'm just tired of being alone." Iwase said moving closer. She followed his gaze—he was fixated on her legs and each gentle step toward him. Then her hips and their sway. Then her eyes, and she could see that darker side was coming back. More confident, or perhaps just reckless. Just as inexperienced as she was. Both trying to pretend they knew the other's every move before it happened. This was going to end in clumsy catastrophe.

"Aiko—" She silenced him with a kiss. He stiffened beneath her, only moving his hands over her arms with an indescribable sort of quiver. Positioned over his lap, Iwase planted feathery kisses across his immobile lips. She found herself dizzy with want and determination, with need and aggression. These chaste kisses were steadily driving her mad. When Eiji's lips finally moved, kissing back, her heartbeat became a flutter. The butterflies inside were going wild with curiosity. His kiss was slow, cautious, little numerous pecks intermingled with slow, shaking breaths. His fingers on her arms were holding tight, as though he would have fallen off the edge of the earth if he let go. Amidst his intensifying kisses and breaths, he half-sighed and half-moaned her name, "Aiko..."

That bothersome book was still between them. Iwase's fingers slipped down across his slender shoulders and chest. Down across his lean body and toward that book on his lap. When she reached for it, Eiji gasped and suddenly threw her off of him and bolted out of the room. Iwase nearly fell off of the sofa before she heard the bathroom door slam. He started singing something about _"Fighting dreamers"_ — she might have recognized the song if she'd watched more anime. She listened to him singing to himself and she gave a frustrated sigh.

"Of course." Iwase grumbled—what else was new in her love life...?

Staying any longer would just be a distraction.

She picked up her coat and made for the door. But she paused, listening to him sing. What the hell was he even doing in there? She moved back to a small notepad by the door where his assistants often left memos before leaving.

_I'm sorry. Let's not allow this to get in the way of our work. I apologize for crossing the line like that._

— Aiko

There.

She made for the door again. But stopped. Backtracked.

Takagi was missing out.

She put a small heart on the page. With a smile, Iwase left.

The light scent of petrichor was carried on the wind; rain was rolling in with a chilly breeze. Iwase rubbed her shoulders and hoped she wouldn't need to find an umbrella on her way home. She tumbled quickly into the first taxi she found and was on her way home, slouching deep into the seats with a sigh.

Iwase wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or disappointed in this turn of events. Or perhaps was she angry? No... it was too difficult to be angry with Eiji. After all... it wasn't quite a rejection was it? She lightly nibbled at her nail as she stared out the window and the soft orange streetlights. All this loneliness must have been driving her crazy. _Why Eiji?_

From the cab's radio came a soft rock song. Some indie band from Aomori with a single that won some recent competition. The singer had a raspy voice for a woman, but it was pleasant. It took her mind off of everything else eating her thoughts.

"_You're still mine, are you still mine?_  
_Atashi wa koko, anata wa doko?_  
_You're still mine, are you still mine?_  
_Rajio kara, 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'... _"


	2. Impulses and Sleeplessness

_**~{ Ch. 02: Impulses and Sleeplessness }~**_

Ohhh, this was bad. No, this was worse than bad, this was terrible. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was to be expected. Maybe it had all just been a matter of time, was all. Eiji paced around the bathroom, singing, "_FIGHTING DREAMERS NARIFURI KAMAWAZU, FIGHTING DREAMERS SHINJIRU GA MAMA NI, OLI-OLI-OLI-OHHH~ JUST GO MY WAY_~ "

It wasn't helping this time—icky thoughts! Icky, fluttery, butterflies in his stomach, gross tingling in his lips, there was a reason why he stopped liking Makiko in second grade! Kisses were disgusting! They were gross, and she was so much more fun when she wasn't trying to hang on his arm and she was funner when she played volleyball with him and, and…

Eiji stopped and took a breath. Iwase was out there, probably going to jump him again and kiss him and… and… everything else adults did… Another shuddery breath and Eiji paced around for another two minutes reciting Bleach's first theme song until the light-headedness and every other bothersome feeling went away. When Makiko kissed him, he'd just about fainted and spent twenty minutes sucking on a paper bag… maybe that would work. Maybe he needed a paper bag—oh hell, he knew what he needed. But that was gross, and it was a mess, and he had work to do, and pages to finish and—

Right, that's all he had to do.

Just go draw.

Finish up the chapter.

He had been thirty-four of forty-two pages in when he got distracted by Iwase. Stupid, stupid impulses. Would she be mad at him for all that? Looking back, he'd said such a stupid thing. None of it even made sense, not even in his mind when he repeated it. But all that roamed through his mind was that soft breath of hers and the sense of someone being there with him late in the night while he drew.

Girls were gross. But Iwase wasn't gross.

Iwase was beautiful and she was nice to him, and even when she was harsh and demanding there was something about it that made him dream about it later on. She could easily boss him around forever and he'd happily oblige if it pleased her.

He poked his head out of the bathroom and looked around — no sign of Iwase. Damn it… where did she go? Maybe it was for the best. He was an idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot! And she made his head do all sorts of stupid loops and not make any sense! Go back to CROW. Draw until sleep crawls in and just go to sleep.

Not a whole lot got done for the next few hours—and Eiji hated it. When he picked up his pen, he'd been entirely drained of any desire to draw CROW or even +NATURAL. So he tried reading manga, re-reading some of PCP and even digging up older manga to get his head back on straight. But every so often he looked back over his shoulder at the place he'd usually find Iwase on a sofa reading or perhaps jotting down her own ideas in her notebook. She wasn't there, and the lack of her breaths and occasional sighs made the apartment all the more lonesome.

Eiji dug up his headphones and tried to drown out those phantom sounds with music. He'd never noticed until then just how many songs he had on his ipod were love songs. Eiji was a sucker for it all, but never really understood that sort of anguish some songs carried—unrequited love, lost love, devoted love, love that utterly ate up everything it came in contact with, even lustful love. He groaned and threw off his headphones before curling up into his futon and mountain of blankets. It was a desperate day in his noisy head if sleep became a better-looking option than drawing.

But even still, 4am rolled in and he had tossed, turned, and rolled himself up into a caterpillar of blankets with not an ounce of sleep. He muttered absently to himself, the various things in his mind. Notes on the next chapter of CROW—"_…Natsuko finds a mask in Tomoyo's bag and realizes she's seen it before…_"—thoughts on Iwase's recent script for +NATURAL—"_…the egg hatches and out of it comes a bird made of pure fire, it takes a liking to Momoka…_"—but amidst two hours' worth of murmurs to himself, he caught her name crossing his lips, "…Aiko…"

"So stupid…" He buried his face in a pillow.

7am and sunlight trickled through his blinds. Still no sleep.

Wrapped up in a roll of blankets, Eiji squirmed and wiggled out into the main room where he found his sketchbook on the floor and a pencil laying atop. Why hadn't he figured this out sooner! Wrestling his arms out of the tight cocoon he flipped to a blank page and began to sketch. Page after page, everything on his mind poured out and only when he reached the cardboard backing of the sketchbook, did his mind feel a little easier.

Half a sketchbook with nothing but Aiko. He fawned over the closed book like a child over a teddy bear and grinned. Alright. Alright, so that made sense, finally. Everything made sense, now. Maybe liking someone wasn't so scary. After all, he used to fill entire sketchbooks with drawings of Tokie-chan. That made everything easier.

When the buzzer went off, Eiji groaned and wiggled his wrapped up self over to the door. The assistants were all up and ready for another day. It was easier to get his mind off of Iwase then. Yujiro's voice came from beyond the door, "Rise and shine, Niizuma!"

Eiji climbed, or rather, slithered up to look out the door's peephole and saw Yujiro grinning wildly with the other assistants looking less amused.

"You're not hibernating in there are ya?"

"No." Eiji answered.

Yujiro's grin faltered for a moment before he glanced back at the other assistants. One shrugged and the other snuffed out a cigarette on the sole of his shoe. Yujiro then turned back and said, worriedly, "…did… did something happen with Iwase?"

Eiji's face went so scarlet so fast that he could feel it. His voice cracked as he screeched, "DON'T SAY THAT, NOTHING HAPPENED WITH IWASE, DON'T MENTION IWASE."

"O-oh, okay!" Yujiro said. Background assistant Tsukimura cackled and made a lewd gesture with his hips and Eiji yelled, "TSUKIMURA, I'M GONNA BREAK YOUR G-PENS!"

Tsukimura stopped and cough-laughed into assistant Shinji's shoulder.

"Come on you guys, don't upset him." Yujiro sighed.

Eiji slouched against the door, one palm rubbing at his burning face. Was he getting sick? He hated getting sick…

That was when he noticed something on the notepad by the door. Iwase had left a message for him that he'd not even noticed! Idiot!

"_I'm sorry. Let's not allow this to get in the way of our work. I apologize for crossing the line like that… Aiko…_" One part of him panicked as he read it quietly to himself. But another part saw a light at the end, when he spotted the little heart she drew by her name. She was still Aiko to him. There was still a heart. There was still that…!

There was still that…

Eiji tucked the little note into a pocket as he tried to swallow back the small surge of nervous butterflies that fluttered up. He opened the door for the team and hopped away toward the kitchen. Coffee was in order. Lots and lots of coffee. The three assistants and editor Yujiro filtered in quietly as Eiji hopped through the apartment in a cocoon of blankets. Just three feet shy of the kitchen, Yujiro asked, "So …is Iwase here?"

"Is she decent?" Tsukimura cackled.

"Huh—d-decent?" Eiji sputtered before his knee caught on a small table. Down he went, face first.


	3. Christmas Cakes and Sleepy Crows

_**~{ Ch. 03: Christmas Cakes and Sleepy Crows }~**_

There was a time and a place for everything and a relationship with Eiji was a relationship that had no place in her life. Iwase made sure not to visit, not to think about, not to even mention him in passing for the following three days. It was all ridiculous; getting suckered in by some kind of half-assed confession like his. One that didn't even make sense!

At her worst, Iwase felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration with how she'd so easily thrown herself at him. It had been an act of desperation that made her look like some kind of quivering schoolgirl, she mused. Yet there was a lingering thought after it all: had that been Eiji's first kiss?

_So stupid... why would it even matter?_

It had been humiliating enough to be turned down by Hattori—was it really only a guy like Eiji who could find her attractive?

Drumming her polished nails on the tabletop, she cursed inwardly. Eiji perhaps had a schoolboy crush, probably. Nothing more. No sane man who knew her kept interest for very long. In fact, there were times where she didn't blame Takagi for choosing someone else. A pang of sadness bit at her from the inside and she swallowed back the thought. With Takagi, it was hardly even about love at this point. Love was quickly becoming something she could do without. Eiji was certainly someone she could do without as a lover.

Though they were both in their twenties, (—_Oh, god, I'm going to be a Christmas Cake __[1]__!—_) Eiji was still a snot-nosed ten-year-old at best. He was a genius in his own right, yes, and an irreplaceable collaborator, but that was all. That was all he could be with her. Iwase made certain to scrub out any thought of Eiji for those few days. It was more difficult than she would have liked it to be.

But then, sitting in the coffee shop, waiting for Miura, all that effort had been swept out the door.

"Good morning, Miss Akina! Or is it Niizuma, now?"

Iwase sputtered and nearly choked on her coffee when that name dropped. She slammed her fist down on the table, startling her editor, "DO NOT… DO NOT PRESUME SUCH A THING, EVER!"

"Ah—oh, I-I see…!" Miura stammered, taken aback with apologies.

So the rumors were already spinning. Well, of course there would be rumors. There had always been rumors since she started visiting Eiji. There had been rumors since the crossover between +NATURAL and CROW that the two were an item. But the issue seemed to have been dropped after that. Why was there a difference now? Narrowing her eyes, Iwase leaned over the table and quietly asked, "Miura, just what makes you think it would be anything other than _Akina_ or _Iwase_?"

A veil of discomfort fell over Miura's brick-shaped face as he answered, "Well, ah…"

"There seems to be a new rumor circulating if I'm not misunderstanding?"

"Well, rumors are just that, you see, and, well, people talk. People talk about lovers when a woman spends every evening at a man's apartment, just the two of them, you know? Why else would, I mean, we all just assumed you were lovers. That you've been lovers for a while now. With Eiji acting like he has the last few days, everyone just figured he'd popped the question and you agreed."

_With Eiji acting like he has lately…?_ A fine, dark eyebrow quirked. The manuscript for the next chapter was pushed aside as, for the first time, something more pressing than work became an issue for her.

"Oh, is that so? Just how has he been acting?"

"Well, ah, I don't think… I mean, it's just little gossipy things Yujiro's told me…"

Pounding the table with her fist again, Iwase shouted, "Spit it out."

"H-he draws pictures of you nonstop! He's filled sketchbooks with drawings of you, Yujiro said, he draws you like a shoujo heroine, he draws you like a seinen heroine, he draws you in dresses he draws you in elegant suits, he's been scribbling nothing but you for the past few days and he won't stop asking us about the next chapter of +NATURAL, we were all pretty convinced that something… er, evolved in your relationship."

"E-evolved?"

"Like, well, uh, you see, when a couple takes their relationship to another level?"

Iwase's face lit up like a scarlet Christmas bulb.

"N-no, no, no, no, it's not like that at all! We, we are collaborators! Nothing more."

"Oh, oh, well… uh… I suppose this should be made clear with Niizuma, then. Before it starts making an impact on CROW and +NATURAL." Miura winced.

An impact on CROW and +NATURAL. So there it was again. Iwase had recklessly and stupidly thrown herself at Niizuma when she'd worried a breakdown in their relations would affect one manga or the other. She needed him for this project. She told herself, if only in that moment, that she needed him for more than just the project. Iwase was a writer and lies were easy enough for her to weave; particularly those woven for herself to thread her way out of guilt. But there she was, wrapped up in that web again.

Iwase dropped her gaze to the table.

"Miura, I want you to promise me you won't repeat this exchange to anyone. Not for anything. I'm asking you this entirely off the record and between just you and I. Let the rumors go as they are until they die out on their own. I'll deal with Niizuma myself, quietly."

Miura shifted uncomfortably for a moment before asking, "Then… entirely off the record, just what is your relationship with Niizuma?"

Iwase winced. She'd been asking herself that every waking minute since that fandangled attempt at a kiss two nights ago. None of the answers pleased her. These were important feelings she'd only ever wanted to feel for Takagi. She was supposed to be Takagi's rival and she was supposed to best him! She wanted Takagi to want her, her mind, her talent. Why did it have to be Eiji!?

There was something there, something that was "something" enough for Iwase to fight off for the recent days. But it was a "something" she was uncertain of; whether it was a fabrication of her own doing, a way of stomping out guilt or whether it was something of ungodly spontaneity.

"It is… completely and irrevocably a mystery." Iwase sighed.

Miura sucked in a slow breath and after a moment of silence said, "I've got some good news about +NATURAL's latest rankings."

Iwase nodded, grateful for the change of subject. For at that very moment, she realized that when asked, it would have been dangerously easy to slip into a tangent of thoughts centering on Eiji. In her mind there were simply far too many.

It was a handful of nights later that she finally returned to Eiji's apartment with the new scripts for +NATURAL in hand. Miura had offered to take them to Yujiro for her. But there was something about that offer that made her snap at him. Miura had only been trying to be helpful. For that she felt rather guilty. She wanted to take her writing to Eiji herself. At 9pm, the same as every other night she had arrived at his doorstep, she caught his assistants filing out and chattering cheerfully amongst themselves. Three men whose names she never cared to learn. Yujiro wasn't with them. One of them grinned at her as she passed and when they were out of sight, she heard him yell in English, "_GET SOME!_"

That phrase made no sense in any sort of grammar she knew—and her English was flawless. But it didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant. Asshole.

Clutching the files to her chest, she slipped in unnoticed. Eiji was sitting at his desk, crumpled up in his chair in that odd way that only Eiji managed with his flexible limbs and monkey-like mannerisms. He was scribbling away with thick headphones blaring loud enough for her to hear from across the room. Shutting the door softly behind her, a smile crept up on her face. It was nice to be back.

It was odd how easily she'd come attached to this place, it's warmth, it's scent, it's bright lights and rows of books and reference sketches pinned around. His walls were littered with paper like some massive corkboard… if he wasn't Niizuma Eiji, she would have bet the complex's owner would have an aneurysm at the number of holes poked into the walls.

But there was something bittersweet about it all. Though she didn't see them strewn about, Miura had mentioned Eiji's new penchant for drawing her. Nonstop. He was smitten, from the sound of it. Men typically were, and turning them down had become as easy as slicing cake to Iwase. None of them ever wound her mind up like Eiji. As the smile dissolved, she reminded herself why she came in person. To set things straight. To try and undo all the idiocy she'd driven herself and Eiji into.

_"I appreciate you, I like you, and perhaps I feel attraction to you, but what I did was reckless and poorly thought out. Please don't think of me as anything more than a coworker."_ Iwase recited it over again in her mind, just as she had the entire way to his apartment,_ "We are partners, but nothing more. Please don't hold out any ideas that this will change."_

Iwase sucked in a breath. It quivered going through her. Of course he'd make her nervous. Just like Takagi did. Who knew she had room in her heart for the butterflies she held for Takagi? It was just her luck that she'd feel such emotions for another doomed match.

She walked over to him. He hadn't even noticed her. Watching his back and slender shoulders, she wondered what it would have felt like to put her arms around him. To plant a kiss on his cheek, on his neck even. Iwase shook the thoughts from her mind before she felt her cheeks grow too pink. She placed the files on his desk the same as she'd done every time before. He continued drawing and murmuring to himself as he always did, voicing all the sound effects and onomatopoiea of each page.

It felt odd to just do this so nonchalantly.

But there was no point in breaking him out of his little world. She'd probably rattled and distracted him enough at this point. He wouldn't be a good accomplice at all if he got nothing done. Her mind rationalized every reason for her to just leave then, without a word. But she could feel her pulse beating hot in every vein of her body, simply for being near him. This tension just wouldn't do. For Takagi, yes, but not for Eiji.

She'd been too lost in her thoughts, staring at the manila folder on his desk to realize he'd stopped drawing and noticed her. Iwase jumped when she felt his hand on her wrist, a gentle and playful grasp. He looked up at her with a big, boyish grin, "_Ohisashi-buriichi!_" _[2]_

Iwase froze for a moment, a deer in headlights, before finally inhaling and nodding, "It's been a few days. Have you even slept?"

She'd never really seen him sleep, though she knew he had his 22-hour sleep binges. It just never happened when she was around. Though he looked a bit more out of color than usual. He was quieter, too. She'd seen him once like this, and remembered Yujiro muttering to her, through one of Eiji's slightly dazed tangents about Ashirogi Muto.

_"He hasn't slept in about three days. He gets like this when he's about to crash. Don't mind him. He gets a bit loopy."_

Iwase pursed her lips slightly, a frown of disapproval, "You're going to wear yourself out in the middle of a page and mess up the inking."

"I don't mess up. I'll be alright." Eiji said with tired cheer.

She looked over him, resisting the want to palm his messy hair into something a little neater, or to brush off a smudge of ink from his cheek. Stupid, tousled thing.

"Are you going to stay?"

Iwase hadn't planned on it. She wanted to. But she had missed the place far too much to leave. So she shook her head and answered, "If it's alright with you, I'll stay."

Eiji leaned his head against her arm and Iwase tensed, feeling her heart jump right into her throat.

"_Wonderful~_" Eiji murmured sleepily in English, "It wasn't the same without you."

* * *

**Notes:**  
_[1]_ _A "Christmas Cake" is a Japanese slang phrase referring to unwed women of age 25; the idea is that on December 25th, many people buy cake to celebrate (unlike western traditions of eating bird/meats) and after the 25th, stores often have a surplus of Christmas themed cakes that didn't get bought. No one really wants them anymore because it's no longer in season, it's old. So a typical expression for a woman over 25 who's had no luck at marriage or dating is that she's like a Christmas cake._

_[2]_ _A pun Eiji always says, "Ohisashiburi" means, loosely, "It's been a long time!" / "Long time, no see!" but Eiji says it, "Ohisashi-burichii!" where "burichii" is how "BLEACH" is said in Japanese phonetics. In most manga translations they write it "It's been a BLEACH long time!" but that sounds terrible. Maybe it'd be better if it were, "It's been a long time. Long like BLEACH." But that's also long/clunky. =.=;_


	4. Evil Queens and Illustrated Love Notes

_**~{ Ch. 04: Evil Queens and Illustrated Love Notes }~**_

It had been four months since she first came to his apartment by herself.

Life had become eventful since Iwase Aiko walked into it. Life had always been an eventful thing, exciting things were always happening, but there had always been a divide between his world and the world of others that he could never crossed. In she came, crossing that line like a pretty crow on glossy black wings. She stayed every night, disappearing quietly in the early hours of the morning after stepping so casually into his world like she'd always belonged there. Aiko had a mind for his world, her world meeting his, they made a crossover story arc and every night they spoke and wove stories that no one else could ever hear about until it was inked and proper. People always tried coming into his world and they never lasted, they always got lost. Aiko never once needed a map for his world and he never needed a map for hers. Crow fit into the world of +NATURAL as though he'd always belonged, and when the story arc ended, when each character parted ways, Eiji felt their longing for each other straight through the page. There seemed like no other heroine that Eiji could see Crow crashing through the world with. In the back of his head he could hear Crow asking when he'd run into Matsuri again.

It had been four months since he told her just how much he liked her being there.

He'd been stubborn about the idea of a crossover for good reason. There were rules against it. There were mindsets against it. Even Yujiro had been shocked, saying, _"This is JUMP, not Marvel!"_

It had been four months since their clumsy attempt at a kiss.

But they were all wrong. Iwase had it right. She suggested a +NATURAL and CROW crossover would do well and she had it so very right. Eiji had all but melted at the thought of her now. Grumpy, bitter, conniving, lovely Aiko. That's what she was in his mind, now. She was as cruel and ruthless as she was competitive and Eiji pitied anyone who considered her a rival. In some respects, he would have loved to have her as his own. But that was the role of Ashirogi Muto. No, she couldn't be his rival. Not when he'd been her partner. There were few people as talented and brilliant as she was. Even fewer that he'd like as partners. Quite probably none he'd allow in his world like he'd allowed Aiko.

It'd been four months since he'd first put thought into the idea of "love," and admittedly, it was a bit less daunting. Love in manga was simple. Love in manga was a heroine whom the hero saved, or even a heroine who saves the hero. Love was when the two fought the same enemy together and came out on top because they had each other. Love was the way Ashirogi Muto took Miss Azuki's hand and ran out in the middle of that audition to keep the sanctity of their dreams alive. Heroes felt love and on that day, so did villains. Ambitious and scheming villains who'd had their plans ruined by meddlesome heroes. Aiko had been so angry and so venomous that day, and he'd cackled at her frustration—she was cute when she was mad. She was always mad about Ashirogi Muto and the more he knew her, the more he saw how mad she was about love and her lack of it. Love was an ingredient to villains chiseled of the blackest and most beautiful marble.

Heroes could fall in love with villains—it wasn't just a doujin's tale.

Aiko was at her best when she was an evil Queen.

Evil Queen, evil Queen! Someone should stop her! She'll ruin the day!

Eiji reclined lazily in his chair, balancing a pen between his upper lip and his nose. A dreamy sigh followed the thought of his Evil Queen Aiko. He could defeat her if he wanted, couldn't he? The thought was as exhilarating as it was daunting; if the hero beats the villain, the story ends, doesn't it? Perhaps that was what was so frightening about love. The story ends when it's complete.

And so that's where this name would start; a story of two lovers whose devotion saves the day. Their story didn't end when their confessions were mutual, not like every other manga. Their story was only just beginning, from A to Z.

The Super Leader's Love Fest project was just starting.

"By the way, when are you going to draw the oneshot's name?" Yujiro asked, "Even if it's you, if you don't hand it in before early March—"

Eiji swiveled around in his chair, sketchbook held high and proud, "WOOSH! I finished that already!"

Yujiro gaped and hobbled over to him in excitement, "You finished it!? Then let me see! It's completely different from CROW and +NATURAL, right?"

A cheshire grin made it's way across Eiji's face as he watched Yujiro's surprise chisel it's way into his features. Forming a heart with his hands, Eiji sang cheerfully in English, _"ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE!"_

But Yujiro didn't understand, did he? Yujiro was mulling over each page with a look of confusion. Was it really so out of left field to read a love story by Niizuma Eiji? Aiko would get it. Aiko always got it.

"When Mashiro-sensei appeared gallantly at the voice actors' audition for +NATURAL, he took his girlfriend with him and left the place. He was so cool. We should have that kind of thing happening more often," Eiji explained. Love made people do wild and amazing things, it seemed. Was Mashiro really so bold all the time, or was this only for Azuki? He wondered if he could ever do something so extraordinary for Aiko.

All you need is love, they had said.

It was a song that repeated in his head all afternoon while he scribbled away at each manuscript page, careful lines with only one thought in mind—maybe she would notice. Maybe Love Power A to Z's Aki-chan would catch Aiko's eye. Zen-kun, Zen-kun held everything he wanted to say. Optimistic words of love, that's what lovers did, wasn't it? There were no battles that two lovers could lose. That's how love worked, right?

By nightfall, the assistants were leaving. Tsukimura rattled on Shinji as always and Yujiro left with the finished manuscript. CROW was left, but so was +NATURAL. Eiji fell easily into drawing CROW again—Aiko wasn't doing so well with +NATURAL lately. It almost felt like those weren't even her ideas anymore. Working on it had become rather sad. Crow, the character, missed the world of +NATURAL, but another crossover wouldn't do the continuity well. Maybe A to Z would inspire her? It would be a success, that much was certain. Everyone loved love, didn't they?

He'd snapped back to the real world when the doorbell rang. Excitedly, Eiji tumbled out of his chair and opened the door for her—Aiko wore her striped jumper again, the one that complemented her hourglass form. She was as quiet as ever, stepping in with a quiet, "Good evening."

"Everyone loves love, don't they?" Eiji asked quickly.

Aiko had been halfway through the door when she paused and stared up at him, "Ah… w-well, some people don't."

That made no sense. Love conquered all, love saved the day, love was the only hero left in the real world.

"Some people get hurt terribly by love and so they tend to recoil at the prospect of it," Aiko fitted a slipper on her dainty foot and placed the next +NATURAL script in it's usual spot on his desk. "Other people simply don't understand love. Love is a formulaic thing and so it's easy for anyone to say they understand it and place importance on it, but deep down it may also just be in their nature to define it as uninteresting, boring, or even frustrating. It's a large effort. Very time consuming, very distracting. People do crazy things for love. Even things they would, in their right mind, regret. Love can be entirely toxic."

Eiji curled up in his chair, fingering through the pages of +NATURAL's newest chapter, "Love's not that bad, don't you think those people are looking at it too pessimistically? They get hit once—fwhap!—and they give up! But without it as a driving force, what else would a hero have to fight their villain?"

"Well, I'd suggest the essence of rivalry but we've established a long time ago how we feel about that," Aiko said with a smile. Eiji grinned back at her, unsure of where his thoughts had been going. She smiled cute. Note a dimple in the right cheek she shared with Aki-chan. A subtle tendency to bite her lower lip when she looked away. As gloomy as Aiko was at first, she warmed up beautifully and hid a myriad of sweet expressions. In a way, Eiji almost pitied Takagi; there was a side of Aiko he'd never see. A side of Aiko that even Eiji had never expected. A side he found he really liked.

"Why do you ask?" Aiko inquired, "Are you considering a romantic story arc for +NATURAL or CROW?"

He couldn't with CROW. Not unless it was a crossover. Not unless Crow could fight alongside Matsuri one more time. A weak smile crossed his face. He'd keep Love Power A to Z a secret until she could see it hit #1 in Jump.

"No. It wouldn't fit well with the current state of CROW and I can't think of any characters in +NATURAL that a romance plot would do justice."

"Agreed."

"But it's tempting. If we had the right foreshadowing in earlier chapters, it'd—zoom!—right to the top!"

Aiko pursed her lips, a habit she had amidst an expression of thought, "Miura had mentioned something similar, but he wanted to take it down a comical route. I swear that man should be an editor exclusive to gag manga projects. I couldn't let the tone drift out of character because he suggests it."

"Editors don't always know the best route to take," Eiji said, drawing again, "You just have to trust your instincts. There's a gut feeling inside that your bond with your story will give you. The characters tell you where they want to go and it's your choice to take them there."

"So it's like that for you, too, is it?" Aiko asked. Eiji looked back at her over his shoulder when she paused. He didn't understand. Aiko elaborated, "Writing and drawing is different. But it's interesting that this is the same, at least."

"It's not that different."

"Of course it is. There's so much you have to worry about with writing successfully," Aiko said, pacing carefully amidst his floor full of sketched pages—a dance she was used to and skilled at by this time, "…one has to consider syntax, grammar, double entendres, foreshadowing, outlining, successful rises and falls of character and plot arcs, tying off the loose ends worthy of closure and leaving only the fewest open for the case of serialization. But at the core of a well-written novel are characters, are fictional people, people with their fears and dreams and wishes. How do you take these pieces and move them across the board until they can reach these wishes? It'd be too simple if the board were one flat road from point 1 to point 2. No, you have to take them through point 1-1, 1-2, even 1-90 until they can reach point 2 believably and effectively. But it must also be done economically enough to bring the reader in with them."

"Kuru~" Eiji swiftly turned in his chair, "Manga is no different. Manga is just another way your pen moves on paper to help these characters reach their destinies. Where you see syntax, I see speedlines—shuu! za!—where they go and how they flow, but too many and it makes no sense! We both tell a story, and if we both fail, we're not telling a story, but only showing a story."

Aiko's eyes darted downward for a moment as she considered it. When she sat down again in the sofa, her pen and paper in hand, she nodded, "Perhaps this is what Takagi meant."

She didn't say much more afterward. Nor did she outwardly agree or disagree. But it wasn't that which left a feeling of discomfort in his chest, it was that name. It was that she considered him again. But that was what she did, wasn't it? As the evil Queen where Takagi was the bold hero and his pretty wife the brazen heroine in their own tale.

But sometimes heroes can love the villains…

Eiji's grip on his pen tightened. He didn't say anything else that evening, preferring only to listen to the sound of Aiko's pen scritching away at her notepad. The thought went through his mind over and over—hero Takagi and villain Aiko, what if their story wasn't the typical sort where he rides off into the sunset with his pretty, ponytail wife? That was alright, he supposed. Although what if Takagi and Aiko shared the same ideas of writing. Writing wasn't so different from manga, was it? So different that Takagi was so much better than he was with Aiko? His grip was white-knuckled by the time he imagined Aiko sharing her worlds and stories with Takagi. It'd be rather magnificent, he confessed, something dark and gritty and superbly intense but there would be no humor at all, no light, no love. No mischief, only viciousness. Only formula.

"Eiji…?" Aiko's voice snapped him out of his bitter reverie and he turned back to her slowly. She said nothing, but he saw her eyes dart to his hand. He'd cracked his pen and it was hanging limply over his knuckle. Oh, right—he'd meant to switch over to his backup. But a series of panels had distracted him. Eiji took a breath and threw the pen in the trash before switching to another.

"I didn't mean to imply writing was superior to manga. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Eiji forced a half smile as he went back to inking, "Don't worry about it."

She didn't say a thing for a long time and Eiji hated it. Their visits were so much funner when she spoke. But their minds were both shoulder-deep in the Super Leaders' Love Fest oneshots. He hadn't asked about hers—he'd heard from Yujiro that it was called 4TEEN. It intrigued him. But perhaps it'd be better to remain a surprise. Or maybe he could just ask—maybe, just maybe, he was the one being a fool.

"How is your Love Fest oneshot going?" He asked.

A pause, silence, and the faintest hint of snoring. Eiji quirked an eyebrow and looked back at her again. She'd dozed off. He grinned and then stifled a laugh. It wasn't the first time, but she always looked so uncomfortable when she slept. Her face seemed to pucker up angrily like she was having some frustrating opinion of Miura in her dreams. But her breaths were steady and feather-soft. Eiji could fall asleep just listening to those breaths, and he knew he'd have the most wonderful dreams. Sleep wasn't so bad when he had those dreams. After all, that was what Love Power A to Z had been—one of those dreams. They were always like that, far funner than the real world.

With a sketchbook in hand, he took a charcoal pencil and focused on Aiko. He'd never had the chance to draw her like this before—it was always from his mind and memory. There were no angles, no stylization, and there was no line thickness or cell-shaded toning. Smoothing each shadow across her image was like touching her face and her neck, carving each detail was like building a replica of her in miniature. There were details he'd been fixated on for weeks that he could never quite catch properly in his style or any other style he'd tried to immortalize her in. The arch of her nose or the thickness of her lips, no simple lines could do it justice.

She stirred a little and when she opened her eyes, an air of confusion seemed to dawn on her. Even that was cute. She looked at him and lightly laughed, "What are you… are you drawing me?"

Eiji's eyes darted to the side, "Trying. You're hard to draw."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched him carefully, "I hope that was a complement."

"Your face is a little complicated."

"What! It is not! Let me see!" Aiko said, climbing off the sofa and moving to his side with a playful skip. She leaned over his shoulders as she looked over the page with a pleasant, "Ohh…"

She lingered beside him, her body close, her perfume floral and intoxicating. His heart was picking up a nervous beat and the butterflies were stirring again. Aiko didn't say anything, did she hate it? Did he at least do her justice? He could easily draw anyone, anything, everyone else was easy compared to her. There was too much that had to be right. Otherwise it was wrong.

"It's wonderful," Aiko said, leaning in closer and letting her arms move around his shoulders and chest in an embrace. Eiji felt his cheeks reddening and an electric tingle at the tips of his fingers. He could feel her breath and her smile against his neck as she hugged him with a warm tenderness entirely unlike an ice Queen. A hero could fall in love with the villain and perhaps a villain could fall in love with the hero, yes!

"You're a very sweet person… thank you."

"It's… it's nothing, I just…"_ Doki-doki, doki-doki…_ "You're beautiful when you're sleeping."

He could feel Aiko's lashes against his cheek when she blinked. It tickled and sent subtle chills down his spine.

"I shouldn't come over just to doze off on your couch all the time, though."

"You can use my bed whenever you like…" Eiji blurted, "I never really use it anyway."

Aiko slipped away, but let her fingertips rest on his shoulders. He didn't want to look back at her, not in case there was a frown on her face, or anger directed at him. There were only so many ways that offer could be taken. He hadn't meant it like… like what adults do. Just the thought of that possibility made his mind crash completely.

"Is it really okay?" Aiko asked, "I don't want to be rude."

"It's not. You'll hurt your neck falling asleep on the couch like you do," Eiji said.

"Alright. Thank you, Eiji. But if you need to sleep, just kick me out."

She took up that offer later in the night, after catching herself dozing off once more on the sofa. Eiji hadn't even noticed it that time, more caught up in a fight scene and the thickness of zoom lines and breakage of panels.

"Zwaah! Zhaah! Kyeeeaahh! Crow wing!"

He'd only caught a glimpse of her disappearing into his room without a word. He paused for a beat, feeling a hot tone color his cheeks once more. Aiko was in his room, curling up in his bed. She probably looked so cute…

Eiji swallowed back the thought and went back to work. He didn't plan on sleeping, not even with Aiko near. This was good. This was hitting two pigeons with one stone. If Aiko was in his bed, he wouldn't go bother her. He'd stay awake and work. He hated sleep. He couldn't draw when he slept, no matter how hard he tried.

From that night forward, Aiko had rather taken over his bed. She came over often. If not every night than every other night. They talked through the evening about +NATURAL and CROW and even about books and films. She was stubborn—so incredibly stubborn—and she was never wrong. Aiko amused him as much as she frustrated him sometimes. But even still, at her most haughty, her company was better than anyone else's. Her pride was alluring in it's own right. It was admirable how unmoving she could be—but entirely maddening when one was on the other side.

_"So like a crow."_ Eiji murmured in English one night. Drowsy and loopy again, that's what Yujiro would say of him. Aiko had disappeared into his room… three hours prior. Nobody heard, no one to care, only himself to hear those words about her. He set down his pen—there were few times he let himself admit defeat to that vile demon called sleep. When he started muttering nonsense that made every bit of sense in English, it was about time for sleep.

_"So like a crow…"_ Mumbling, he floated through the apartment to his bed, however far it seemed to be. Time was lost on him. As was a sense of where the walls were, last he'd checked. He dropped onto his bed in one of the few moments those blankets and pillows felt inviting. But there was something else in the way, something warm, something soft, something that wouldn't budge, whatever it was.

_"Good night, pretty crow…"_ Eiji sighed, using his foot to shove whatever that thing was out of his spot. Finally, with a great deal of effort, it gave and it toppled over the edge of the mattress. He thought he heard his name shrieked, but perhaps it was just a dream. He heard a thump. Knocked something over, it sounded like.

Oh, well…

Sprawling out in his bed, he set to a heavy sleep.


End file.
